


Sticky Situations

by Nix (CrimsonQuills)



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-16
Updated: 2011-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-23 19:23:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonQuills/pseuds/Nix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a disastrous cooking class, Qui-Gon gives Obi-Wan a hand in cleaning up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sticky Situations

**Author's Note:**

> Nix's author's note: Well, this was my first time every collaborating on a fic with someone. It slowed production down a little (kept getting sidetracked by chatting! -g-) but helped me to pull through the awkward bits. -smile- I had fun, and learned some about my own writing! And together, I think we've set a record for header length. Is anyone still with me at this point? -bg-
> 
> kaly's author's note: well, i've cowritten before - so this wasn't as much a learning experience for me. however, it was a definite adventure in insomnia and chatting *g* who knew when i thought up this idea and asked kry about it we'd manage to turn it into a week-long adventure. still reading? thought not :-) hope you get a kick out of this holly, we've now managed to create a dangerous talent of evil plotting, my thinks.
> 
> Acknowledgements: Many thanks to...each other! For mutual pulling through sticky spots, mutual betaing and keeping each other awake late enough to write . -g- We discovered that we think remarkably alike while writing this, to the point of finishing each other's sentences. Which was useful, and scary to others...they're working together?! No! -g-
> 
> Dedication: This story was written for Holly, a wonderful friend to both of us. We hope it makes you smile!

As the fine dust of flour started to settle around the two, now completely white padawans, Bant shook her head slowly. "Kenobi, you really are hopeless in a kitchen."

Obi-Wan brushed the Trillian flour from his face. "It wasn't my idea to be here," he replied, almost managing a pout.

Bant hid a smile as Obi-Wan tried to shake the flour from his hair. "This is an elective class, Obi. You didn't have to take it." She heard Obi-Wan mutter under his breath, but couldn't make out the comment. "What was that?" she asked, not bothering to hide her smile.

"Qui-Gon's making me. Something about me trying to poison him."

At that Bant did laugh, and was quickly seized by a sneezing fit. Once she could talk, she managed, "You're what?"

"You heard me," Obi-Wan replied, not managing to hide his own grin. "It's hard to believe, but I'm not the best in the kitchen."

"Really," Bant deadpanned. She glanced around at the mess that was once their cooking area. "Never would have guessed that, Kenobi. I just want to know one thing."

Obi-Wan looked at his friend suspiciously, not trusting the faint smile on her features. "What?" he asked hesitantly.

"How did I ever end up with you for a lab partner?"

"Padawans Kenobi, Bant," the knight in charge of the cooking class said, interrupting them. "I see you've managed with your usual flare."

The padawans saw the hint of humor in the teacher's eyes, but succeeded in acting contrite. "Yes, Knight Isri."

The knight looked around the area, and said, "How about you attempt to make Soryzan honey cakes?" Obi-Wan's eyes grew large at the question, and Bant hid her laugh behind a sneeze. "I trust this won't be a problem?" the knight asked, managing a straight face.

"No, sir," the two friends said.

A slight smile curved the ends of the knight's mouth. "Good. I look forward to seeing the results."

"I can do this," Obi-Wan muttered under his breath after Isri moved out of hearing range.

Bant shook her head, "Or we'll die trying, right?"

Obi-Wan groaned. "Don't say that. The worst things always happen when you say that."

Bant merely smiled. "As long as it's happening to you this time, and not me."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "It always happens to me, doesn't it?"

"True," she said with a laugh. "Now, let's get to work or we'll be here all night."

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan said, "Okay, now or never."

The mixing of the dry ingredients for the honey cakes went remarkably well. Unfortunately, the next step was to add the honey. Obi-Wan opened a cupboard in their kitchen area. "Uh oh," he said.

"What now?" Bant asked, rolling her eyes a little.

"We're out of honey," Obi-Wan explained, and held up the empty jar to illustrate.

"I'll go get it," Bant said, reaching for the container.

"No, no, I can do it," Obi-Wan insisted. His pride had been injured by the flour incident. Bant looked skeptical, but waved him towards the main supply area. Squaring his shoulders, Obi Wan marched up to the giant tub of honey and reached for the tiny tap at the bottom. Under Bant's nervous gaze, he firmly twisted the valve open. Too firmly.

The entire tap broke off the plastic tub and honey began rushing out faster than one would have thought possible for such a viscous fluid. Obi-Wan desperately shoved his jar under the stream, but it overflowed within seconds.

Panicked now, Obi-Wan looked around for a larger container. Spotting a bucket, the padawan briefly abandoned the honey to fetch it. Returning, he dove in an attempt to shove the bucket under the tap, which was now spilling honey onto the floor. Obi-Wan's lunge was cut short as one foot came down on honey instead of tile, and his feet flew out from under him. He lay for a moment, stunned, as the last of the honey dripped onto him.

Hearing a loud noise, Bant came running from where she had been working on their project. Rounding the corner she was brought up short by the sight of Obi-Wan sprawled on his stomach in the middle of a giant pool of honey. Her mouth fell open and she put her hand over it, struck speechless for a moment.

Before Obi-Wan had a chance to say a word, Bant started giggling. She was soon doubled over with tears running down her cheeks. Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face, but realized his mistake as honey was soon smudged there as well.

Managing to sit up on his knees, Obi-Wan shook his head. "You're not being much help here, Bant."

Hearing him speak, she looked up, only to be overwhelmed by another round of laughter. "Sorry," she managed to gasp out. "It's just . . ."

Obi-Wan looked down at the front of his tunics. "How am I going to explain this?"

Bant stood up straight, and walked over to Obi-Wan. Holding out a hand, she tried to help him to his feet, only to be pulled down into the ooze. A yell was half torn from her throat at the sudden movement, but was drowned out by Obi-Wan's laughter as Bant was soon coated in the honey as well. "This time it's not just me," he said with a grin.

"It rarely is," Bant replied with a laugh.

"So . . . what do we do now?" Obi-Wan asked, his face suddenly a mask of innocence.

Bant shook her head and managed to stand back up. "First we have to get this mess cleaned up before Knight Isri comes in here."

"What mess, Padawan Bant?" Isri's voice echoed in from the hall a moment before the tall knight walked into the room. Bant quickly turned around just as the knight walked into the room. Obi-Wan managed to stand up, however unsteadily as his feet kept slipping in the honey. "I trust there is an explanation for this?" the knight asked, wide-eyed.

Bant glanced at Obi-Wan, seeking a reply, before again facing the knight. "The handle broke open," Obi-Wan explained.

Isri hid the ghost of a grin. "And you decided to go swimming?"

"Not exactly . . ." Obi-Wan replied. "Everything just seemed to snowball."

The knight nodded. "That may be, but you will be expected to clean up the mess."

"Yes, sir," the padawans said.

Bant and Obi-Wan quickly realized that the honey would ruin regular mops, and resigned themselves to scraping it off the floor. After the majority of the sticky substance had been transferred to a bucket, the two padawans got down on their knees with damp rags and proceeded to scrub the tile floor.

As his body heated up, the honey that had begun to stiffen Obi-Wan's clothing grew even stickier. Muttering darkly, he shrugged and stripped off his tunics. Bant's eyes widened in surprise and appreciation before she glanced around for Knight Isri. Fortunately, he had returned to the class around the corner.

Sparing another glance over at Obi-Wan, Bant grinned. "So, Kenobi, free show?"

Obi-Wan's head shot up to meet Bant's gaze. "Force, no. I expect to be paid," he grinned.

Bant laughed. "Will whistling and cheers do?"

"Now, really Bant, is that your best offer?" Obi-Wan asked with a grin as he stood. "I was thinking something more along the lines of a favor . . ."

"Huh uh. No way, Kenobi." Bant stood, backing away from the other padawan. "The last time you said that I was doing extra meditations for two weeks."

"It's a really little favor," he wheedled.

"Yeah, and last time it was a really little kitten. No."

"Yes, but this time it would be a type of you wash my back, I wash yours thing," Obi-Wan pressed, trying not to laugh. "All you have to do is help me get cleaned up before I have to see my master."

Obi-Wan cringed at the spark he saw suddenly light up Bant's eyes. "You mean you don't want Qui-Gon to help you?" she asked innocently.

"Not with this! It's going to be hard enough to explain what happened without . . . complicating the issue."

Bant shook her head. "Complicating the issue?"

Obi-Wan fought back a blush, but he must not have been entirely successful, because Bant smiled knowingly. "Oh, that kind of complication." Obi-Wan was saved from having to comment further by Knight Isri's arrival.

"All right, padawans, it looks like you're about done here. Go to your rooms and clean up. I've sent reports to your Masters, who will deal with you appropriately."

Obi-Wan cast a desperate glance at Bant. His friend rolled her eyes and nodded slightly to indicate she'd help him clean up. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, Obi-Wan climbed to his feet, slipped his robe on and snatched up the tunics he had shed.

The two padawans nodded briefly to the knight before hurrying from the room.

Their gazes still lowered, the friends hurried from the room and out into an adjoining hallway. Obi-Wan turned the corner and found himself running into a wall of tunics. In a jumble of arms and legs, his momentum carried them down onto the floor.

It was only after trying to extract himself from the prone position that Obi-Wan let himself look at the face of the person he'd knocked down. Blood rushed to his face at seeing Qui-Gon's curious expression, and he noted Bant's stifled laughter in the background.

"You're on your own now, Kenobi," she managed, and took off in the direction of her quarters.

Obi-Wan hurriedly stood, and held out a hand to help Qui-Gon to his feet. The master ignored the offered hand and stood before looking down at his now-honey-coated clothes.

"Would you care to explain, Padawan?" he asked, fighting the smile that sought break through.

"This cooking class is educating me on the many ways food can become a weapon. Now I have an alternative to poisoning you," Obi-Wan said, laughter and mortification coloring his voice. Qui-Gon smiled briefly before his expression turned serious.

Obi-Wan's nervousness began to win out over his amusement. "Come, Obi-Wan, let us return to our quarters and clean up this . . ." Qui-Gon paused to look again at his clothes. ". . . mess."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied, ducking his gaze. He could feel his ears burning red as Qui-Gon looked at him for a moment more before turning and walking back down the corridor.

Obi-Wan fell into step behind Qui-Gon and found himself fighting the urge to reach out to his master and see what the older man was thinking. Qui-Gon glanced over his shoulder at the agitated padawan, and again fought a slight smile. 'He does make life interesting,' he thought to himself.

Unaware of his master's amusement, Obi-Wan continued to follow, left to wonder what Qui-Gon might have in store for him. By the time they reached their quarters, Obi-Wan's stomach was in knots.

Qui-Gon found the report from Knight Isri waiting for him and sat down to read it, leaving his padawan to squirm. Obi-Wan watched from just inside the room as Qui-Gon sat and read. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Obi-Wan fought the urge to fidget.

Once Qui-Gon finished reading the report, he turned off the datamonitor and turned to face his apprentice. "So, Obi-Wan. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Again Obi-Wan fought the urge to shift his feet. "It was an accident, Master."

"An accident . . ." Qui-Gon steepled his fingers under his chin. "Yes, you do seem to have many of those where a kitchen is concerned."

"Master . . ." Obi-Wan tried to explain, but was silenced when Qui-Gon held up a hand.

"However, you will never best this problem without facing it head on," Qui-Gon said, standing. "You will continue to attend the class. As for this mess," he began, indicating both of their outfits.

Obi-Wan nodded, "Yes, Master. I'll clean them right away."

Obi-Wan had just turned to walk into his bedroom when he noticed a smile form on his master's face. He turned in time to hear Qui-Gon laugh softly. "You do know the secret of Alderaanean honey, don't you, Obi-Wan?"

Cringing, Obi-Wan shook his head. He knew better than to trust the glint in Qui-Gon's dark eyes. "No, Master."

Qui-Gon nodded. "I thought as much."

Obi-Wan realized that the other Jedi was trying to bait him. "What is the secret of Alderaanean honey, Master?"

"It doesn't dissolve in water, no matter how hot the water is," Qui-Gon revealed.

"So how do we get it off?" Obi-Wan asked suspiciously.

"Well, saliva seems to work the best."

Obi-Wan blinked slowly, trying to decide if he should trust Qui-Gon or not. "Is that so, Master?" Obi-Wan asked. He dropped the soiled tunics, and walked toward the other man.

Qui-Gon managed a stiff nod, "That it is, my padawan."

Moving to stand directly in front of the Jedi master, Obi- Wan tilted his head to look into Qui-Gon's eyes. "And how might we make use of the saliva?" he asked, his voice dropping to a rough whisper.

Qui-Gon struggled to remain calm in the face of his padawan's heated gaze. "Direct application seems to be most effective," he said, somehow managing to keep his voice level.

Obi-Wan licked his lips, and smiled.

Reaching out, the younger man slowly peeled off the layers of Qui-Gon's tunics. They were sticky, but not as badly saturated as Obi-Wan's own clothing, much of which lay abandoned on the floor. Obi-Wan ran his hands - clean, since he'd had to wash them before cleaning up the original mess - over Qui-Gon's bare chest.

He was disappointed to find that his master's tunics had entirely shielded his torso from the honey. The first sticky spot he found was at the base of Qui-Gon's neck. He lowered his head and licked the spot once, the sweetness concealing Qui-Gon's own taste. Obi-Wan smiled a little and returned his mouth to the spot, his tongue laving the skin until the older man's flavor was all that he could taste.

Qui-Gon struggled to remain calm as his padawan sucked on his skin, hands clenched at his sides to keep him from seizing Obi-Wan and pulling him closer. Obi- Wan could feel the tension in the body under his lips and grinned a little before moving on to another honeyed patch, this time on Qui-Gon's chin.

"I think," Qui-Gon said, his voice rough with arousal, "that you need a lot more cleaning up than I do. Perhaps I should get to work."

Putting words into actions, he divested Obi-Wan of his robe, leaving the younger man dressed only in leggings and boots.

Obi-Wan, well aware that more of him was honey-coated than not, shivered with anticipation. Qui-Gon allowed his lips to curve a bit and moved to lap at the honey on the younger man's chest, beginning with a slow swipe along his sternum. Obi-Wan bit back a gasp at the touch of his master's tongue, but he couldn't stop himself from arching into the caress.

Qui-Gon's smile widened, but he did not cease the tongue bath. Slowly he worked his way across Obi-Wan's chest and towards one of his nipples. A whimper was torn from Obi-Wan's lips as the tight peak was finally engulfed in hot wetness. Qui-Gon could feel the younger man's legs trembling and pressed his palms against Obi- Wan's back to support him.

His hands still supporting Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon lifted his mouth from the young man's chest. Raising his gaze, he watched Obi-Wan's flushed face for a moment before capturing the padawan's lower lip between his own.

Breaking away from the kiss for a moment, a half-smile formed on Obi-Wan's features. "Too sweet for you?" he asked with a light laugh.

Qui-Gon shook his head, smiling as he pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan's lips before replying, "No, but we do have all night to account for, don't we?"

Laughing, Obi-Wan wrapped an arm around Qui-Gon's neck. "Promise?" he whispered, the brush of air caressing Qui-Gon's parted lips.

Qui-Gon growled low in his throat, and found himself staring into heated blue-green eyes. "Only if you think you're up to it," the Jedi baited. However, Obi-Wan was unable to reply as Qui-Gon again claimed his mouth.

The younger man broke away, grinned a little and ground his groin against Qui-Gon's thigh. "Oh, I'm pretty sure I'm up to it," he said huskily.

Qui-Gon chuckled and allowed Obi-Wan to draw him into the bedroom.

The padawan's legs bumped up against the bed and Qui- Gon drew him close and kissed him deeply. Breaking the contact of their lips, he murmured, "I've found another sticky spot," and turned Obi-Wan so that he could lap at a patch of honey on the younger man's shoulder blade. Obi-Wan drew in a quick breath at the moist contact on his back and leaned into the touch.

Qui-Gon put a hand about his waist, his fingers splayed on his lover's stomach. Obi-Wan covered the hand with his own, weaving their fingers together. Obi-Wan turned his head to the side, and Qui-Gon abandoned Obi-Wan's back to press a kiss to the padawan's open lips. Obi-Wan could taste the honey on Qui-Gon's tongue as he deepened the kiss, wrapping his free hand in Qui-Gon's hair.

Qui-Gon pressed his chest against Obi-Wan's back and nibbled gently at the younger man's earlobe. Obi-Wan gasped. "That's . . . that part's not sticky," he managed.

"Are you objecting?" Qui-Gon asked with a light laugh, nipping the lobe.

"No," Obi-Wan murmured, and turned in Qui-Gon's embrace to kiss his Master.

Reluctantly leaving Qui-Gon's lips, Obi-Wan slid onto the bed and pulled the older man after him. Qui-Gon continued the tongue bath he'd begun earlier, moving quickly down his padawan's torso to concentrate on his thus far neglected lower body.

He paused briefly when his lips reached Obi-Wan's stomach. The muscles quivered with tension and quick, panting breaths. Qui-Gon traced light patterns across the muscles with the tip of his tongue, delighting in the twitches the teasing touch caused.

Honey had pooled in Obi-Wan's navel, an oasis of sweetness surrounded by flesh made salty with sweat. Dipping his tongue into the depression, Qui-Gon noted Obi-Wan's strangled moan and spent a moment more savoring the honey.

Obi-Wan arched as Qui-Gon continued to lave his navel. Grasping the material of Obi-Wan's pants, Qui-Gon tugged them over the padawan's hips. Qui-Gon smiled when Obi-Wan's erection sprang free of the restrictive material, drawing a sharp gasp from the younger man. He moved on and, nibbling at the firm muscle of Obi- Wan's thighs, couldn't resist marking his padawan.

As he maneuvered farther down Obi-Wan's legs, he kissed the muscled legs as he continued to pull the pants down. Reaching Obi-Wan's knees, he mouthed them gently and left a final kiss on each before moving on.

Qui-Gon struggled with the heavy leather boots that Obi- Wan was still wearing, cursing silently before finally managing to unfasten and toss them to the floor. An insistent hand brushed his cheek before tangling in his hair, drawing him up to address more . . . pressing matters.

Qui-Gon looked up, capturing Obi-Wan's smoldering gaze with his own. Not breaking eye contact, he lowered his mouth, slowly engulfing Obi-Wan.

Gripping the younger man's hips tightly, Qui-Gon held him still. Instead, he moved. Obi-Wan closed his eyes against the sensations Qui-Gon was creating in him. A low moan tore from his throat as he strained against the pressure of his master's hands. Qui-Gon growled, the sensation causing Obi-Wan to thrust upward, breaking free of the hands which held him, and plunge deeper into Qui-Gon's mouth.

Qui-Gon smiled, allowing Obi-Wan's cock to slip from between his lips. Lightly he sucked on the heated skin, before swallowing the shaft again. Obi-Wan's hands laced through Qui-Gon's hair. When the other man gently touched the sensitive skin with his teeth, the padawan pressed his head back against the mattress, arching into the touch.

Obi-Wan was lost in the ecstasy of Qui-Gon's touch, the hot, wet, caresses driving him beyond thought. His hands not leaving his master, his hips arched up one final time. Obi-Wan came in long pulses, shuddering with release and crying out his love.

Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan's body was stretched taut and finally relaxed, falling onto the bed bonelessly. With a smile, Qui-Gon placed a kiss to the stretch of skin between navel and groin before moving up to capture Obi-Wan's mouth with his own.

When the kiss ended, Qui-Gon met Obi-Wan's sated gaze. He gently tugged on the padawan braid that had stuck to Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Have I ever told you how much I love seeing you like this?" he asked lightly.

Obi-Wan stretched an arm over his head, a pleased smile on his face. "You have," he murmured, "and I like seeing you the same way just as much." Obi-Wan rolled onto his side and reached out to finger the waistband of Qui- Gon's leggings.

He caressed Qui-Gon's chest, enjoying the feel of the muscles rippling beneath his touch. He smiled when Qui-Gon sucked his own lower lip into his mouth, and drew his fingertips down to tease one of Qui-Gon's hardening nipples. The Jedi master managed to stay silent until that same nipple was caught in the searing heat of Obi-Wan's mouth, when the younger man leaned forward and sucked the skin softly.

Qui-Gon wrapped a hand in Obi-Wan's short hair, leaning into the contact as his lover had done mere moments earlier. Obi-Wan's hand, however, didn't still. Instead, he continued to skim the pads of his fingers over quivering flesh, before dipping into Qui-Gon's pants and stroking his ass. Qui-Gon growled softly, and tugged on Obi-Wan's hair until their mouths were once again pressed together.

Obi-Wan flicked his tongue against the corners of Qui- Gon's mouth, the older man's lips parting and his own tongue darting out and into Obi-Wan's mouth. Qui-Gon gasped into the deepening kiss when Obi-Wan's hand moved from his ass to skim across his stomach and finally below to his almost painfully hard cock.

Obi-Wan tenderly but firmly closed his fingers about Qui-Gon's shaft, bringing his lover to orgasm with a few short strokes. He watched with wonder undiminished by the months together as Qui-Gon surrendered to the pleasure, clutching Obi-Wan's neck and hip, and gasping heartfelt endearments.

As Obi-Wan snuggled in close to Qui-Gon, the Jedi master tightened his arms around his padawan and laughed softly. Obi-Wan glanced at Qui-Gon in confusion. "What?"

Qui-Gon's laughter ended, but his smile didn't fade. "I was just thinking that you're still half coated in honey." Qui-Gon spared a glance down at both of their chests before adding, "And now I appear to be as well."

Obi-Wan smiled sensuously at Qui-Gon. "The night is young, Master," he replied, almost purring.

Groaning low in his throat, Qui-Gon nodded. "So it is, my Padawan. So it is."


End file.
